Chapter 10
Leeva
After handing off my rental car to the valet, I enter the Empress Hotel. You’d think that after years of exposure to the Wentzell level of wealth, staying in places of such elegance and grandeur would be something I’m used to.
Instead, I nervously walk through the luxurious lobby with its chandelier—which is rumored to be inlaid with diamonds—spilling golden light across the marble floors, expecting security to throw me out on my ass.
The heels of my stilettos click on the floor as I hurry to the bank of elevators to take me to the privacy of my suite. I ensure the belt of my cashmere overcoat is tight, hiding the scandalous black silk dress underneath.
I feel like Julia Roberts, straight out of Pretty Woman, as I walk through the beautiful hotel lobby, hiding the woman underneath. Instead of a sex worker, though, I’m just a woman who had the best sex of her life.
“Good evening, Mrs. Wentzell,” the night manager calls from behind the desk as I pass.
“Hello, Henry. How’s your evening? And please, call me Kathryn,” I add with a friendly smile.
Since running from San Francisco, I’ve gone by an alternative spelling of my middle name, Catherine. Only my Wentzell family—my found family—calls me Leeva now, and only in private.
He dips his chin, a smile gracing his lips. “I’m honored, thank you, Kathryn. And my evening has been lovely, thank you for asking. Is there anything I can get for you?”
Since it’s two in the morning, the only thing I need is my bed.
Or maybe riding the Sybian Saddle and being made to come over and over again, as my wolf had promised.
Pushing that inappropriate thought firmly away, which will only lead me down a dangerous path, I decline Henry's offer and wish him goodnight.
After I take the elevator to my floor, I hurry to my suite and only relax once I’m inside.
Moonlight spills through the balcony door’s open curtains, and I flick on a light, then cross the room.
After double-checking that the balcony doors are locked, I pause and look out at the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, which seems to glow under the moonlight.
I’ve always loved that bridge. Every Sunday, my parents and I used to picnic in various spots where the bridge was still in view. Once they died, my grandpa, Livewire, took over that tradition until he died. Then Hayes had carried it on…right up until I had run.
Right after I had lost my baby.
Pressing my forehead to the glass, I close my eyes, hoping that will somehow stop the pain and memories, but knowing damn well it won’t.
I had been such a fool back then.
A foolish, na?ve young girl to think that Guerilla actually loved me, and that he wouldn’t be like so many of the other bikers who didn’t know the meaning of monogamy. I became his old lady way too young, and in hindsight, I know I never should have become it at all. Ever.
But I was so ecstatic when I got pregnant because I had the chance to be a mother, to try to be an amazing and loving mom just like my own had been.
I had planned to lavish so much love on my child that it almost didn’t matter who the father was.
I had a chance to fill the aching void that the deaths of my parents had left.
I had a chance to build a family like the one I had before my parents were taken from me.
Back then, I was way too thin, dangerously so—Hayes was right to be concerned.
I wasn’t healthy enough to avoid putting my baby at risk.
I know I can’t totally blame myself, and that my child might not have survived even if I’d been the picture of health.
But the shock and horror of walking in on Guerilla cheating on me with three of the Club Pussy might have pushed my body past what it could handle.
I had lost my baby, a little girl, due to a placental abruption.
In the hospital, it was Hayes who was there, not Guerilla. It was Hayes, my best friend, who held me as I shattered.
And it was Hayes who admitted that he knew that Guerilla had cheated on me previously, but he had decided to keep that from me. He never told me.
You’re dead to me, Hayes.
Those were the last words I spoke to my best friend. He left, thinking he was giving me some space, but I took the opportunity to run.
I wasn’t medically ready to leave the hospital—physically or mentally—but that didn’t stop me. I ran from Guerilla. From Hayes. From everyone connected to the Havoc Guardians, even though they were the only family I had left.
I couldn’t stay. Not with what I had lost. Not with my blind, naive ignorance and what it had cost me.
I had run. And I never looked back.
“Which begs the question: why are you here?” I mutter to myself, pushing away from the window.
Exhaustion presses down on me. Part of it is from the exhaustion of being truly and well fucked, part of it is the tortured memories, and part of it is jet lag.
I close the curtains, then turn off the lights in the living area of the hotel suite and walk into the bedroom.
I keep the lights off and head straight for the bed.
Removing my overcoat, I undo the tie of my dress around my neck, let it slip off, and remove my shoes.
I don’t wash my face or shower off the scent of sex.
Instead, I climb into the bed and burrow under the covers, trying not to think about tonight, the unbelievable pleasure I experienced at Hedon, and my wolf.
My wolf.
The mysterious man in a wolf mask who dominated me in ways I only dared to dream about.
Who peeled back the edge of the curtains into the tantalizing world of kinky sex that I have tried to pretend I wasn’t interested in for years.
Tried to pretend that part of me, and those secret desires, didn’t exist.
I finally had the courage to go to a place like Hedon to explore if this was truly something I was interested in. And seeing the hedonistic things happening around me had been thrilling and deeply arousing.
But a part of me still told me that I was a wanton slut for wanting the things I did. That it was wrong; that I was wrong. My wolf assuring me that what I wanted or thought I might want to try wasn’t wrong or bad had quieted that part of me.
He was a stranger to me, yet I had instantly trusted him. There was an instant connection.
And my god, the reaction my body had to his touch...the way it reacted so intensely and instantly.
My body is thrumming right now, just remembering my evening with him. And I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block any further memories.
But just like you can’t unsee what’s already seen, what’s done is done.
My hand slips between my thighs, and I slip a finger into my wet core, already knowing the release I give myself won’t be anything close to what he gave me. Already knowing that I can’t see him again, not with his link to the Havoc Guardians.
But still, already knowing all that, I’m not strong enough to resist making myself come to the thoughts of him, my wolf.
Or to stop craving the kinky, filthy things I want him to do to me in the future.